


Radiant

by MasterFinland



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: ???? - Freeform, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ballroom Dancing, Canon Compliant, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Dance Offs, Dancing, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, Fluff, Grand Prix Final Banquet, M/M, Not AU, POV Victor Nikiforov, Pining, Pole Dancing, Post-Banquet, Pre-Relationship, Song Lyrics, Songfic, Wedding Night, Weddings, based around the song never tear us apart by inxs, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-11 14:26:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11150301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasterFinland/pseuds/MasterFinland
Summary: "I was standingYou were thereTwo worlds collidedAnd they could never, ever tear us apartWe could liveFor a thousand years"





	Radiant

**_I was standing_ **

 

Viktor sipped his champagne, blue eyes drifting lazily around the room. He wanted so desperately to loosen his tie, to at least unbutton his silky waistcoat, to kick his shoes off and fall face first into his uncomfortable hotel bed, just a short, thirty second elevator ride to the sixth floor away. 

 

Most of the potential sponsors and reporters had left over an hour ago, so it was just the coaches, competitors, and the wealthy V.I.P. who bought their way in left straggling, left mingling. The event wouldn’t end for another three hours at least.

 

Post-Final banquets had only been fun the first few years, but by the time Viktor had won his second gold medal, he no longer cared for the afterparty. He could only drink so much champagne, so much wine, before the taste became sour on his tongue, could only snack on hor dourves and prosciutto wrapped pears before he got sick of them. He’d thrown fancy food and wine up enough times to know not to have too much.

 

**_You were there_ **

 

Viktor’s eyes drifted to one end of the room at a crash and an indignant shout from little Yuri Plisetsky, slowly placing his half-full flute of bubbly down on the clear glass table before him. 

 

A young man, with dark hair and glasses, with a rumpled suit and a furiously flushed face, was speaking loudly to the little blonde. A metal tray that had once contained a snack food was on the floor a few yards away from his feet, what looked like stuffed mushrooms and tomatoes scattered and smashed near barstools. 

 

Yuri’s face was screwed up, his ears pink.

 

Viktor rose from his seat languidly, curious, and made his way over, perfectly trimmed brows cocked. Most people were so turned off by his junior’s nasty attitude and prickly demeanor that they wouldn’t dare to approach the blonde. But this man, this rather beautiful man, was speaking so quickly, so loudly, so animatedly, to the teen, not at all bothered by the curses he was spitting into his face.

 

He was drunk.

 

_ “You should dance with me!” _ The no-named, likely-wealthy V.I.P. cooed, licking his lips, glasses slipping down his nose. 

 

_ “Hell no!”  _ Yuri snapped, red face twisting into an expression of disgust, scowl turning his lips up.

 

The foreigner smirked, a gleam in his dark eyes as he pulled back from the angry little kitten.

 

_ “What are you, chicken?” _

 

Viktor practically saw Yuri’s entire existence shift, then, at the words, at the challenge, his shoulders hunching, a cocky smirk of his own replacing the bitter frown from before.

 

_ “Hell no.” _

 

_ Oh?  _ The base of Viktor’s spine tingled.  _ Interesting. _

 

**_Two worlds collided_ **

 

The foreigner had won, had beaten Yuri Plisetsky in a dance-off in the middle of the banquet floor. The rose-gold tiles beneath their feet were a lot less clean than they had been before, covered in food from knocked-over trays and smeared with dirt from the bottoms of shoes.

 

Yuri was hunched over on his knees, panting, heaving, sweat dripping down his chin and onto the shimmering tiles. He was glaring at the foreigner, face flushed and blue suit rumpled.

 

At some point during the dance, the foreigner had removed his pants, had snagged an entire champagne bottle, now left in just his underwear and unbuttoned shirt, his jacket long gone. He had on socks, but his shoes had disappeared. He’d kicked them off in the middle of a song, in two different directions.

 

One had hit a poor woman in the face, and yet still, Victor was having the most fun he’d had since he was twenty. 

 

_ “I bet I could get a pole in here,”  _ Christophe had said, sipping at his sixth or seventh martini of the night, smirking devilishly.  _ “He looks like he knows how to work one.” _

 

**_And they could never, ever tear us apart_ **

 

They were dancing, the two of them.

 

Viktor was dancing with the handsome foreigner, a fellow competitor from Japan, Katsuki Yuuri.

 

They were laughing, both red in the face. Viktor’s heart was beating so wildly he felt his chest was going to burst, not caring one little bit for Yuuri’s flushed, half-naked body pressed up against his own. 

 

No wonder Viktor hadn’t recognized him. The man he was dancing with, the wild, shit-faced party demon with a tie wrapped around his head, dipping him during the wrong parts of songs, was so completely different from the Katsuki Yuuri he knew, the man who had flubbed every jump, who hadn’t ever spoken a word other than during a conference, who stayed so far under the radar Viktor hadn’t even  _ worried  _ about him.

 

But this Yuuri, the one spinning him and giggling, the one who ground on his leg, arms wrapped around his shoulders, slumped like Viktor was the only thing holding him up, had sparked something low in Viktor’s belly, had brought a bubbly laugh from his chest, had shocked him into silence, into awe, for a solid minute and a half with one simple request.

 

_ “Be my coach, Viktor~!” _

 

**_We could live_ **

**_For a thousand years_ **

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote something that wasnt abo?? how the hell???


End file.
